We slipped through the wooden gate, and a narrow pebble path unfurled like a gray ribbon. On both sides, cold-hardy greens stood like little torches against frost. In the yard, cute magical beasts and spirit beasts darted like windblown leaves or curled in the plants like sleeping stones.
The plants and the small beasts breathed warmth into this near-empty compound like sparks in a brazier. Yet a sadness hung like winter fog—the only ones at home were women and children. The place hid at Moonhundred City’s far edge like a burrow under snow. And here, the year was one long sheet of ice, a sky of drifting flurries.
In short, the house felt hollow as a shell; even the neighbors were a blank horizon. The weather bit like a wolf, and the air stayed iron-cold. Nalu once told me the Geyas Clan had been the richest under heaven on the Northern Abyss Continent, yet now they stood like a toppled banner in a storm.
“Isn’t living here hard, like breathing under a sealed lid?” Lixue asked Nalu, her voice soft as falling snow. Nanai and Yafina had already gone to prepare hot water for cooking and baths like steam waiting in a kettle. Lixue herself had grown up with FrostyLily Dream in the Palace of Ice Crystal, a hall lonelier than this, like moonlight on an empty lake.
“Yes.” Nalu blinked, caught off guard like a bird in sudden light, then let a bitter smile bloom like a thorn. “Honestly, at first it crushed me like a weight on the chest. I even blamed my father again and again—why drag the family to this forsaken place when he stood at saint‑rank peak like a mountain? Later, I learned it was all for our safety, like shelter under a cliff.”
“Safety?” The word stung like sleet on the face, and confusion rose in me like mist. If anything happened out here, who would answer, and who would come, in a world this far and white?
“Yes,” she said, her tone level as frozen water, and her eyes steady as dark pine. “The Geyas Clan’s wealth at its peak came from monopoly, like damming rivers, and from cutting off other powers’ lifelines, like snapping roots. We offended almost every small and mid-tier force across the Northern Abyss Continent, and even the great ones watched us with cold eyes like distant stars.”
“So even now, many forces still want to erase the Geyas Clan like wiping ink from a page,” Nalu went on, calm as a winter tale told by the hearth. “Every old base, every warehouse, every nest was found and burned like brush. Only this place hid too deep in the snow and slipped the blade like a fox in scrub.”
“Sounds like your clan wore a bad name like a thorny crown—enemies everywhere, not a friend in sight,” Lixue said, her words clear as frost on glass.
“Yeah,” I added, breath smoking in the cold like a pale banner. “You were the richest under the sky—how did you end up with no friends at all?”
“Even with many enemies, there had to be some who wanted to curry favor, like moths to a lantern,” Lingxiao and Lingsaki said together, their brows knit like twin willow leaves.
“About that…” Nalu’s smile tilted again, bitter as tea steeped too long. “Truth is, at its height the Geyas Clan was arrogant, like eyes fixed on the clouds. We thought enough wealth could drown any storm and silence any throne. Even those who came with open hands, we brushed aside like dust. We acted alone for profit and used any means, like knives under silk. So ties frayed and snapped, one strand after another, like a rope left in rain.”
“In the end, without enough strength or enough allies, wealth was just foam on a wave,” she said, voice low as embers. “After my grandfather died—the god‑tier peak who shielded us like a towering peak—we had no way to face a united siege, a tide of blades. In only a few years, the Geyas Clan fell from the sunlit crest of commerce to a hidden, fallen house, like a lamp trimmed to a wick.”
We walked and talked, our steps crunching like salt underfoot, and reached a three‑story dwelling as plain as unpainted wood. No ornaments, no gilding; just a modest house, square as a box in the snow.
Nalu pushed the door open with a soft creak like a reed in wind and waved us in with a winter-warm smile. “I don’t dare dream of restoring the Geyas Clan’s old glory,” she said, voice quiet as ash. “I only hope our days improve, like thaw after frost. At least let us stop living like mice in the walls.”
“So pitiful…” Lanxia’s gaze softened like spring light on ice. “Want a dragon’s help? I could wipe out a few of those who nurse grudges, like clearing briars from a path!”
“Yeah, Nalu’s too pitiful,” another voice chimed, bright as bells. “Dear big brother, let’s help them, like lending a shoulder under the rain.”
“Same here,” said Lingxiao and Lingsaki, sympathy rising like a tide. “Nalu did nothing wrong, and this fate feels crooked as a bent branch.”
“Thank you for the kindness,” Nalu said before I could speak, bowing her head like a stalk under snow. “But this is the Geyas Clan’s matter, and if we can, we want to rise by our own hands, like grass breaking frost.”
“Is that so?” Warmth stirred in me like fire waking in coals, and her resolve didn’t surprise me at all. She was a strong one, a stone set firm in stream. “Then when you can’t hold the weight anymore, come find us, like calling to friends in a storm.”
“All right.” Nalu’s smile turned frank and bright, like sun on new snow. “I’ll remember that well, Amamiya.” …
